


Not Quite Emotionless

by LookingForShadows



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e21 Funeral, F/M, Friendship, There's a lot going on here okay, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForShadows/pseuds/LookingForShadows
Summary: Quinn Fabray is terrified of feeling anything. So most of the time, she chooses to live within an empty void.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, not mine, not mine.

She texts Puck, tells him that she needs a ride, even though she thought she saw him walk the other way with Rachel, of all people. She knows that it may ruin everything if she is seen with him, but for once she's decided — and it _is_ a decision — to let her emotions overpower her desire for the best social status.

_b there in 5._

She'll never be able to do anything about his chatspeak, but at least she has a ride.

While she's waiting for him, sitting on the curb near the back of the church, she composes a tirade in her head.

_No, Finn. No, I don't show emotion. I don't show emotion because the last time I did, I was completely and utterly destroyed. The last time I showed emotion was when Lauren confronted me. Lauren — the girl who has the guy I never thought I'd end up with, but want more than anything else. And the girl who found out the past I worked so hard to conceal._

_And the time before that, the time before that when I actually showed an emotion I truly felt, the last time I felt something other than a pit of emptiness at the bottom of my stomach? That was when I had my baby. Beth, Finn. Beth. Do you remember her? 6 lbs, 3 oz. Born a little early, with Puck's dark hair in thin thatches across her smooth head, and the deep expressiveness of his eyes but my face, my nose. The lips, my mother said after we returned from the hospital, that looked precisely like mine had the day I was born._

_My daughter._

_That was the last time anyone mentioned her other than thinly skirted references. She's nearly a year old now, and I miss her more and more every day. Do you remember her birthday?_

_It's June 8. But you wouldn't know, because you aren't…_

_No._

_No, Finn. I'm not going to show a damn inch of emotion if I can help it because I got this far in life without it. Who the hell needs emotion?_

"Hi."

She hadn't realized that he's sitting next to her. "Hey."

Puck hunches over, elbows resting on his knees, forearms outstretched into the muggy nothingness of Ohio nearly-summer air. She steals a sideways glance at him, but he stares off into the distance, watching the last few people — Sue, Will, the pastor — trickle out into the parking lot. "So what happened?"

She shrugs. There isn't much to say. "We're done."

"You and Hudson?"

She nods, and he finally turns her head to look at him.

"Just like that?"

She doesn't have the nerve to say anything – damn it, she's such a freaking hypocrite – but nods again, long hair brushing over the sensitive insides of her arms as she leans forward, places her head in her hands. There's nothing left to cry over, but she lets a tear trickle out anyway. There go all the plans she had.

"The plans aren't worth shit," Puck says, and slings an arm around her, pulls her close. She tenses, but his body quakes with a quick laugh. "Relax, Q. Friends still, right?"

She nods, enjoying the safe retreat that his friendship brings. This friendship or whatever this relationship is has brought her a lot of comfort over the past two years.

"Oh," he said quietly. "Um." His arm slipped from around her and then in between their sides, digging through his pants pocket, and he pulled out a small box – cardboard, with a clear JC Penney's label on it, and hands it to her nearly carelessly – gruffly, caringly, with a little more emotion than Quinn likes to surround herself with.

But this is her best friend. She gets over that sort of thing easily.

She opens the box to find a set of earrings peering up at her. It's just a single pearl, nothing too fancy, but they probably cost him a few hours' earnings at whatever job he's working these days. "Thank you."

"I wanted to give you these before New York," he said softly, not daring to stare at her. A lot of people did that, and for the most part she liked her power. Now, it just made her uncomfortable. "They're pearls."

"I can tell," she said, trying not to sound scornful. "They're lovely, Puck."

"Pearls are the birthstone for June," Puck says quietly, his eyes closed. As though it can block out all the pain.

She inhales deeply. "Beth."

Puck nods and stands up. "Ready to go?"

She fingers the pearl earrings in their department-store box, looks at Puck with more emotions - gratitude, sorrow, understanding - in her eyes than she's allowed herself to express in three years. "Yeah."


End file.
